CHAPTER XXXVI.
ARRIVAL AT HORNCASTLE--THE INN AND OSTLERS--THE GARRET--FIGURE OF A MAN WITH A CANDLE.
Leaving the house of the old man who knew Chinese, but could not tell what was o'clock, I wended my way to Horncastle, which I reached in the evening of the same day, without having met any adventure on the way worthy of being marked down in this very remarkable history.
The town was a small one, seemingly ancient, and was crowded with people and horses.

I proceeded, without delay, to the inn to which my friend the surgeon had directed me.

"It is of no use coming here," said two or three ostlers, as I entered the yard--"all full--no room whatever;" whilst one added, in an undertone, "That 'ere a'n't a bad-looking horse." "I want to see the master of this inn," said I, as I dismounted from the horse.

"See the master," said an ostler--the same who had paid the negative kind of compliment to the horse--"a likely thing, truly; my master is drinking wine with some of the grand gentry, and can't be disturbed for the sake of the like of you." "I bring a letter to him," said I, pulling out the surgeon's epistle.

"I wish you would deliver it to him," I added, offering a half-crown.